Killer Z (13 page)

30

T
he paint leaves a red smear on the wall as Seth
repeatedly loses his focus. An occasional groan comes from his mouth, not
sounding like him at all. His eyes water profusely and the painting no longer
makes sense.

“What am I doing?” Seth asks
George Washington.

Seth doesn’t remember painting on
the canvas. Cool night air enters through a broken window. Not one street light
works. The gallery is illuminated by looted camping lanterns.

Lin rushes into the dim gallery.
“They’re tearing each other apart in the Civil War gallery.”

“Who’s tearing each other apart?”
Seth asks.

“The recruits are changing into
zombies, Seth. We need to leave.”

“How many of the dogs are left?”

“Ten or fifteen are downstairs
fighting for their lives. M2 should have been back from the scavenging mission,
but he’s missing in action, so is Mack.”

“Maybe the tsunami killed them.”

“We’re barely containing the
freaks but they’re relentless.”

“Whatever man, that’s not my
problem,” Seth says and applies a stroke of scarlet to the portrait. “Being an
artist is all about what mistakes to keep.”

“Why are you drawing zombies when
the real deal is down stairs?”

A cruel smile comes to Seth’s
lips. “I’m seeing myself bash your skull in.”

“What?” Lin asks, terrified.
“Don’t play like that man.”

Seth blinks and abruptly turns to
the painting and asks, “What’s happening down stairs?”

“It’s the pills, Seth. The Zs are
turning them into cannibals.”

“You’re over reacting,” Seth says,
then slurs. “Some stupid bitch kneed meee in the balls. I’ve been pissing
blood.”

“Um, ok. What’s your point?”

“I want to find the cunt and teach
her a lesson.”

“She’s probably dead with the rest
of the city. We have enough drugs and money. Let’s just leave.”

“You’re a pest. I need to finish
the painting.”

Seth hums softly and applies red
paint on Abraham Lincoln.

“Where the hell did you get the
paint?” Lin asks.

“From volunteers,” Seth says and
points to the far corner of the gallery.

Lin gasps. Four dead bodies are
piled on top of each other. Their throats have been slit.

M2’s voice drifts upwards from the
street, “Weeeeeeeeeeee’re home!”

Seth puts down the brush and looks
out the window. M2 stands on the street below with a dozen armed thugs carrying
torches. They have bound prisoners.

“They will be torn to pieces if
they open the doors,” Lin says.

“I found C4! Timers and all! Let
me in,” M2 shouts.

The doors burst open and
bloodthirsty zombies rush out, leaping on the armed men and bound prisoners. M2
and others spill to the sides and open fire on the attackers. They fight their
way inside the building as zombies flood into the night. Seth grabs his guns,
ready to help his men. He doesn’t notice Lin pick up the backpack full of
Killer Zs and sneak away.

31

M
ichael flinches as a bug crunches under his dress
shoes. Everything is covered in foul smelling slime. He trips over an office
chair and lands on a soaked sofa cushion. A fist sized cockroach crawls over
the cell phone, undaunted by its light. A rat nibbles on a dead five foot
swordfish. The rodent’s eyes glistens red as it eats the fish.

“Ugh, it’s too dark to see,”
Michael says and leaves the phone.

“What happened?” Rebecca asks.

“I tripped and broke my phone.”

“Are you alright? My phone ran out
of juice.”

“I’m ok,” he says, standing.

“I still have two bars,” Juliet
says and walks to the couple. She takes Rebecca’s hand. “I’ll share my light.”

“Ok,” Rebecca says.

Michael miserably follows the
women in silence.

“Everyone stays together,” Fred
says.

Michael slips and grumbles, “I
keep falling. We need to hole up for the night.”

“What’s on your knee?” Juliet
asks.

Rebecca gasps and peels away what
he assumes is paper. 

“Since when did you start growing
Franklins and Benjamin’s, Michael?”

“Holy shit, we’re rich!” Kyle
yells.

The street is full of currency and
gold bars coming from the Federal Reserve. The building’s frame glows as iron
struts and wall braces burn blue.

“Is this real?” Fred asks and
picks up a gold bar.

“We’re rich!” Kyle crows and
shovels wet money into his backpack.

“Nice find, Michael!” Rebecca
excitedly says.

Harry stomps and puffs, “We can’t stay
on the street. Think people, there’s a reason why the gold and money is sitting
around.”

“Harry is right,” Michael says and
grabs Rebecca’s hand. “It’s too dangerous out here.”

“You’re too paranoid,” Kyle
hisses.

“Shit, this gold is heavy,”
Rebecca says.

“We need to find shelter before
the zombies find us,” Michael says.

“This is our time to make it big!”
Rebecca says.

“Son, Rebecca, how about you both
come back in the morning. Let’s try that building over there,” Fred suggests.

“What if zombies are inside?”
Juliet asks.

“It’s too cold to stay out here,”
Fred says.

They enter the building
cautiously. Pixel whines and draws their attention to gnawed upon corpses in
the entrance. From within the building comes a chorus of groaning and moaning.
Silent and fearful, they quickly retreat to the street. Several blocks away
Fred stops in the midst of tsunami tossed cars and leans on a police cruiser.

“There might be a blanket inside
one of these cars,” Fred says.

“Flashlights or a gun would be
good. Let’s scavenge,” Harry suggests.

Juliet slides open the door to a
minivan and peeks inside. Michael and Rebecca try the doors of the police
cruiser but it’s locked. Harry finds a crowbar in a station wagon. Kyle hoots
as he bashes a rock into a window of a pickup truck. Fred searches a Mercedes
and finds a heavy duty flashlight and a road flare. Pixel darts in between
everyone and explores.

“Guess we can try Kyle’s way,”
Rebecca says and picks up a rock.

“What are you doing?” Michael
asks, alarmed.

“Stop being a sissy.”

The reinforced glass deflects the
rock which bounces to her feet.

“It must be Rebecca proof.”

“Jerk,” Rebecca says and
repeatedly slams the rock into the window.

Pixel and Juliet wander over.
Juliet holds her cell phone as Rebecca’s grunts. Rock and arm blur.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,”
Michael shouts.

Rebecca groans and hits the window
faster and harder. The others wander over. A crack becomes a small hole.

“Honey, as your husband, I demand
you stop!”

Pixel barks. The window shatters
with a
crunch
. Streaks of blood cover the rock and her hand.

“Step aside,” Harry says and lifts
the crow bar.

“No, she’s my wife!”

Fred shines the flashlight into
Rebecca’s milky white eyes. She howls as if burned and cringes away. When she
opens her eyes again they are normal brown and filled with confusion.

“Rebecca!” Michael says and
reaches out.

“Don’t touch her, she’s a zombie!”
Juliet shrieks.

“Michael? What’s happening?”
Rebecca asks.

“Is she a zombie?” Kyle asks.

“Not yet,” Harry mutters.

“Why is this happening to me?”
Rebecca cries.

“Everything will be alright,”
Michael lies.

“Like hell. She’s a zombie!”
Juliet says.

“We need to remove the infected
from the group,” Harry says.

“Rebecca is my wife! What’s wrong
with you?”

Harry is determined but
apologetic. Kyle grips a metal pipe and vibrates with an aura of sadistic glee.
Juliet pulls at Pixel’s collar.

“Fred, you’re a sensible man,”
Michael says.

“What?” Fred stammers.

“You believe in Jesus, right? And
you Harry, you’re not a murder!”

“But she’s infected,” Harry says.

“I’m not a zombie,” Rebecca yells.

“Dad, zombies need to die.”

“Let it go son.”

“Rebecca’s clearly not a zombie.
Get a grip people,” Juliet says.

“Why are you talking about me like
I’m not here?” Rebecca shouts.

Everyone looks uncomfortably at the
ground.

“Let’s keep looking for supplies,”
Fred says at length.

Harry keeps a wary eye on Rebecca.
Michael unlocks the police cruiser’s trunk and finds a small flashlight and
body armor. He only takes the flashlight. The body armor is too heavy. Not once
does he think of offering the armor to the others.

“Fred fishes out a heavy leather
police jacket from the back seat and a pack of cigarettes.

Harry finds a shotgun with five
shells.

“Fred, take this shotgun,” Harry
says and hands the gun over.

“Um, ok,” Fred says.

The others find blankets, bottled
water and candy bars. They ignore Rebecca’s almost turn except for Pixel. The
dog keeps her distance and growls.

Kyle shines a newly acquired
flashlight into the night and says, “I found a flare gun, how cool is that?”

The popping of gun shots quiets
the group.

“I found notebooks and magazines
in a car. In Korea, we used paper from magazines and candy wrappers to keep
warm.”

Harry tears out the pages.

The others look at each other
skeptically and Rebecca grumbles, “I’m not cold.”

“Put them in your shirt like
this,” Harry says to Michael, who complies despite feeling silly.

“I’ve heard hunters do similar
things to stay warm in the winter,” Fred says.

“Oh gee, I got someone’s porn,”
Juliet snips.

Kyle accepts a notebook with a
scowl.

“Oh, it’s working,” Fred says.

“The Old Post Office is over
there,” Harry says.

“I saw it too,” Michael adds.
“Holy shit, I’m warming up. Thanks Harry!”

“It took forever to get this far,”
Kyle whines.

“Oh, stop being a downer,” Juliet
mumbles.

“Then stop being a bitch,” Kyle
snips.

“We get there.  We just need
to stick together,” Harry says.

“Like a band of heroes. Adventure
alone, die alone,” Juliet sings.

“Can we hide ourselves from the
zombies?” Kyle asks.

“Nope, it’s already been tried. A
buddy of mine did that, Private Miller. The blood infected him.”

“Lucky us,” Kyle grunts.

“Stay focused on getting to the
post office,” Fred says.

A chorus of moaning and shrieks
drift through the night. Rebecca and Fred chain smoke cigarettes. Pixel uses
her superior senses and finds them a clear path.

“I hear zombies but don’t see
them,” Juliet says, voice trembling.

“Are they feeding?” Rebecca asks.

“This hell is never going to end,
is it?” Michael whines.

Fred directs his light beam at a
green rectangular sign that reads Constitutional Avenue NW. A smaller blue
sign, above the green sign, reads evacuation route. The fowl stench of scorched
rubber fills the street.

“Who made the fire?” Kyle asks as
they stumble upon a pile of burning tires.

The orange and red bonfire
illuminates a fifteen feet circle. A dozen dead zombies have been bashed to
pulp around the perimeter. One hangs from a light pole, still groaning.

“Whoever did this is a sick
freak,” Juliet mutters.

Rebecca rushes to the fire. Near
the burning tires a fishing ship towers over the vehicles. Bedrolls and a
makeshift tent are spread around the blazing tires.

“Smoke break!” Rebecca barks.

Kyle climbs onto the fishing boat.
Harry walks around the camp.

 “Whose camp is this?” Fred
asks.

“Don’t be so paranoid,” Rebecca
snaps.

“Yeah, it’s not like complete
order is gone,” Juliet says. “Things will go back to normal in the morning.
This is USA, home of the red, white and blue.”

Michael unzips a tent and peaks
inside. An attractive woman, naked and bruised, is bound inside. Her milky eyes
twitch open and she groans. He pulls back, appalled.

Kyle loads a cartridge into the
flare gun and shoots it overhead.

“What are you doing?” Harry yells.

“I’m getting help!”

The street brightens in a yellowish
white hue and the landscape takes on clear and sharp detail. Groans rise from
the vehicles around them as the zombies strapped in seatbelts become agitated.

“You alerted every one of our
location you stupid shit!” Harry fumes.

“Screw you,” Kyle replies and
jumps to the street.

Michael follows Juliet and Pixel
to a station wagon near the lopsided boat. A bloated body slumps over the
dashboard. A woman, maybe the mother, holds a zombie child. The child lunges at
the windshield.

“God, she ate her own mother,”
Michael chokes.

Rapid gun fire pierces the night.

Rebecca dashes to Michael and
says, “We need to hide.”

There’s muffled voices beyond the
bonfire. Juliet slips into a car’s backseat and cringes away from the strapped
zombie driver. Pixel stands in front of the married couple and barks.

“Hold!” a man orders from the
darkness.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Fred
says.

“Mack, where diddd the second girl
gooo?” a thug asks.

“Sammy, you’re hallucinating. Why
are you in our camp?” Mack snips.

Four thugs enter the light. Mack,
still wearing the security guards outfit, carries an assault rifle. Two thugs
wear heavy metal band shirts over faded jeans. One carries a hunter’s rifle and
the other a handgun. The fourth armed man couldn’t be more than sixteen years old.

Mack points an AK47 at Fred. “Be
smart, don’t make this a homicide.”

Fred drops the shotgun.

“Seth’s offering two Zs for
girls,” Mack says. “Doug, cuff her.”

“I wanttt the brunette before Doug
fucks her,” Sammy says and rubs his belly underneath the filthy Metallica
shirt. He waves a rifle under Michael’s nose.

“Don’t try anything cute brother,”
Sammy says.

“Shut up and take their guns,”
Mack orders.